


Finding Home

by BelleWrites (sunleyemrys)



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Bonding, Drunk confessions, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-26 05:44:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunleyemrys/pseuds/BelleWrites
Summary: Writing prompt! Family tells LI a childhood story.





	Finding Home

Marian was off probably setting something on fire in a pique, so the estate was blissfully quiet for once. It allowed Fenris to wander around and work on helping the place feel like home.

Every place was home as long as he was with her, but at her pleading, he had finally moved into the Amell/Hawke estate. It was strange to say the least. And surprisingly empty when she wasnt around. He missed her, he wasnt afraid to admit that.

The heavy front door opened with a crash and a voice called out, "Sister! I was travelling and was able to get some time away to visit. Uh, Marian?" Fenris walked quietly to the front entry and stared at Carver. "You arent my sister."

"Obviously." Fenris motioned for him to come in and sit. "She is out with Isabela. I dont expect her home for a few more days."

Carver sat across from the tattooed elf. "So you and her are...?"

"Together, yes." He pushed the small plate of food he had been picking at towards the Warden.

Carver began eating ravenously. "And you live here now? No more rotting corpses to smell everyday?"

Fenris poured the younger man a glass of wine with a sigh. "If you would have stopped to actually look, they were props. I am not some diseased animal to live in my own filth."

"Ah. Clever." The plate was practically licked clean as he leaned back, draining the glass. "Well the place doesnt seem to have fallen to ruin with just her. She never could clean up after herself."

Fenris smiled faintly. "She still cant. I am surprised Orana hasnt quit in anger over the amount of laundry Marian leaves everywhere." He refilled their glasses, pondering something he knew would never get a chance to ask about any other time. "You wouldnt by chance have any good stories about her would you? From when you lived in Ferelden?"

Carver laughed. "You want dirt on my sister! Oh elf! This is good! What are you looking for exactly?"

"I have no idea honestly. I do not remember my own childhood, so I cannot say would be interesting to hear about." Fenris shrugged, he would be happy with any story really. A chance to hear more about his love and the life she lived before they met.

Carver tapped his fingers against the table considering his options. "I can tell you about when Mother and Father dragged us all to Denerium to do some matchmaking with nobles and wealthy families. It went about as well as you would expect."

"I'm sorry, but what?" Fenris shook his head.

"The Amells are nobles. And even though Mother changed her name to Hawke, a lot of people knew who she was. Use to irritate Father because they just assumed he was her bodyguard and not her husband.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Pretty much as soon as Marian turned thirteen, Mother started getting offers for her hand. And why not? None of them knew that my sisters were mages. They were just pretty girls with a good family bloodline.”

“You’re angry about that, aren’t you?” Fenris could see the old hatred darken Carver’s face. “They got more attention over it. Did you ever think that neither of them wanted it?”

“Of course, I thought about it!” He snapped. “I mean, women always have it harder it seems. Cause they don’t always get a say in marriage. But Father spent so much time with them, teaching them mage, something I never had.” He sighed and drained his glass. “I shouldn’t be bitter. I know why it had to be that way, and it was a long time ago. Just, it felt unfair.”

Carver refilled his glass, looked at the wine bottle and set it on the table. “That crazy cousin of mine visited recently, didn’t she?”

“Solona? Yes, she did, on her way to Orzammar I believe, why?” How could Carver tell from just reading a label like that? Curious.

He spun the bottle around and pointed at the words. “I gave her this bottle for her birthday. She loves Dalish wine. Surprised she didn’t drink it. Marian must have nicked it from her.”

“Another mage in my strange family. I still don’t know what to make of the guy she married. I don’t understand how he puts up with her. Every time I saw her at the castle she was nose deep in some book, scribbling notes on whatever surface there was.” Carver leaned his elbows on the table, unbuckling his greaves. “She is nice though, strange but nice. Not what I expected obviously. But shes family.”

It was the most Carver had ever spoken to Fenris, he wasn’t about to interrupt him. He understood the need to get things out and in the open. “My sister is the Champion of Kirkwall, and cousin is blood Hero of Ferelden. And I am just, me.” He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “And I am dumping all my problems on my sister’s, uh, what exactly do I call you anyway?”

Fenris shrugged, “We haven’t figured that out ourselves honestly. Partner seems too vague, but calling her my spouse when we are not wed is presumptuous. And if she is not ready for that, well.” He waved a hand.

“She’ll run screaming to the hills. Yeah, I know. I grew up with her Fenris.” He drank from the wine bottle and passed it Fenris. “Anyway, I was going to tell you about when we went to the Match Making thing.”

Fenris nodded and gestured for him to go on. “Mom buys Marian and Bethany beautiful new dresses. Now I had never actually *seen* Marian wear a dress in my entire life, and it was an expensive dress, so it travelled in a box with us to Denerium. Bethany got to wear hers.”

The bottle was mostly empty and Fenris picked up another from the floor and opened it, taking a drink before passing it over. “There are so many sons and daughters of good families, all dressed up like horses at a fair. It really was something. And Marian is, of course, bitching the entire time about having to wear a dress, especially one that showed off her, um *assets*. No amount of reasoning with her would get her to be quiet about it. Course, I found out later that a lot of the boys there were a bit handsy with her, and since Father had told her no magic and no punching people, she was forced to be smarter.”

Carver took a long drink from the bottle. “But who else would be there but the Cousland family. Three years prior they had sent Mother a letter suggesting to their eldest should marry Marian. My sister had objected because the son was five years older than her and she didn’t want to be with someone *so old*.”

He handed the bottle to Fenris. “So, this Fergus comes up to me after talking with my parents and sister and asks me if she is still pure and untouched. Well, I had no answer to that because if Marian had been with anyone she hadn’t told me, and she was private enough to not talk to Bethany about it. He seemed disappointed that I couldn’t answer, and me being an angry kid told him that he should just ask her himself. I wasn’t my sister’s keeper and she was a very honest person. And then,” He took the wine back and drank. “And then I stuck my foot in my mouth. I told him that she would probably bewitch him into bed with a spell and have her wicked way with him. Poor guy turned the brightest shade of red I had ever seen and ran away from me.”

“So, what happened after that?” Fenris realized that Carver wasn’t going to give the bottle, so he opened another.

“Poor bastard actually took my advice and asked her! Made some awful line about her bewitching him from across the room or something. Now Marian being Marian, didn’t like the implied promise of sex he kept pushing at her, but she was clever, and figured that if she was being forced to take part in this stupid thing, well she was going to have fun.”

Fenris could tell where this was going, and it wasn’t good.

“She sends notes to all the guys who had been making eyes at her and tell them to meet her in the stables after dark for some *special alone time*, but not bring torches, so that no one would know people were dallying in there.” He chuckled. “Teenage boys are so stupid.”

“Wait, what did she do?” Fenris could see this scenario going one of two ways, neither of them particularly good.

Carver grinned. “She did was she does best. She talked.” He emptied the bottle and set it on the floor with a clink. “First to the Couslands, then to any servant or guard she came across. She *emptied* the keep of people to go and see what was happening in the stables. Marian told them, in tears, that none of the boys wanted anything to do with her because they all wanted to have relations with each other.”

Fenris groaned, pinching his nose. She didn’t, did she? Of course she did.

“Marian leads all these adults out there in the middle of the night, throws open the doors and there is half a dozen guys standing around confused in their small clothes, yelling at each other for messing up their chance to dally with a girl.” Carver shook his head. “When they see her there, standing in front of everyone, the only thing she has to say is ‘I am not a piece of meat and I will not be treated as such.’ She turned on her heel and marched away.”

The elf laughed, it could have been worse. So much worse.

“Mother was aghast, and Father tried to look disappointed, but he really wasn’t. He was pretty proud of her. But I mean, I honestly didn’t see any of those guys being able to put up her and her mouth. Least not for very long. Ferelden was good place to grow up, but she never would have been happy there, not really.”

“For all her mouthiness, she is an amazing person with a kind heart. Its just difficult to see sometimes.” Fenris took a slow drink. “But I learned early on to let her come to a decision on her own, because anything else will be like pulling teeth. But, she makes things better.”

Carver stared, “Maker. You love her! You really freaking love my sister!” He exhaled leaning back. “I thought it was a comfort thing, or to piss off the nobility here, or some strange way of staying safe. But no, you honestly love her.” He reached a hand over to grasp the elf’s wrist. “Maker, why?! Shes impossible to deal with!”

“I can barely explain it to myself at times. She makes the pain, less. She doesn’t coddle. She is a bright, sparkling star in this dark world, and I will follow it ‘til the end of my days. She is not the Champion, or a mage, or an Amell, or whatever other trappings people try to put on her. She is just, Marian, an amazing woman who, for some reason decided I was worth the trouble.” Fenris smiled softly picturing her as she left with Isabela, the gentle way she had pushed his hair from his eyes and kissed his cheek, whispering some filthy in his ear that made him blush and had both women laughing.

“Well hell, I should give you this then. Maker knows I’ll probably never need it.” Carver pulled tunic away from his chest and freed a small silver ring with red stones. “This was the ring Father gave Mother. It was his grandmother’s I believe, one of the few things he managed to hang on to after the Circle took him.” He held it out to Fenris, who took it with shaking hands. “Mother gave it to me when we were still in Lothering after Father died. She wanted me to give it to a fine young woman someday.”

It was a simple silver band with garnets set all around. Delicate, yet bold, just like Marian. “I cannot accept this. It is yours to give away.” He tried to hand it back, but Carver shook his head.

“My sister is a fine woman. And I probably won’t marry. She deserves happiness Fenris, and you’ll be the one to give it to her. Just don’t wait too long, you know how little patience she has.” He yawned and stretched. “I am going to find the first available bed to sleep this off. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Fenris nodded a good night, his eyes stuck on the ring sitting in his hand. He loved Marian, but neither of them had ever really talked about getting married. He would wait, he decided, unwinding the red fabric from his wrist exposing the small red braid hidden underneath. A tiny lock of her hair, saved from when she had cut it in mourning. He attached the ring to the braid and wrapped the favor around his wrist again, feeling the slight press of the ring against his flesh.

“Soon my love. Soon.”


End file.
